


Mutuality

by Hyacinthium



Series: Hyacinthium's Discord Shorts [14]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Awkward Kissing, Disturbing Themes, Eye Sex, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No actual violence, Online Friendship, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Relationship, Self-Hatred, Sexual Fantasy, Snuff Kink, gore kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi and Shuichi find out that they have been friends for half a year, albeit online. Said friendship has already begun to revolve around eroticism of the undeniably fucked up kind. Going to school the day after leads to reflection. Figuring out what they want.Kokichi, Shuichi, and the stark differences between them.





	1. Comparative

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't want to read the fucked up gory parts, skip everything after Kokichi says he's going to fuck Shuichi irl. The line break exists for a reason. Read end notes for in depth warnings on what Shuichi's part goes into. This Shumai is ahegaoing intensely. 
> 
> This fic is a strange combination of a few ideas I've used before. Somehow, it exploded into thousands of words in a short time. Could this be considered an alternate version of the world in Risky Business? Sure. Everything is canon to Rotary at least. 
> 
> Let Kokichi say fuck.

Ouma Kokichi is a small and cute person. At least in the sense that he has the appearance of what that describes. His personality is the exact opposite. Ouma Kokichi is a fucking cunt, spending his days mocking others and performing large eloquent speeches as to why things are shit. The prose and language is cruel yet academic enough, factual enough, that people cannot truly stop him. He's a maniacal asshole made of pure evil that has recently become legal. The world will bow to him once he can buy alcohol.

Online.

Online. On the internet. Kokichi has of course tried to be himself in all place, yes. It's just that the moment more than five people are in the same room as him-

Kokichi just can't speak in daily life. Maybe that's why he's so salty. No, he's not absolutely not just salty. He calls out and informs vast masses of people. At the same time. Just not ever to anyone's faces, which is basically killing him right now.

For some minor and extremely important context, Kokichi is currently trying to figure out the best way to commit suicide while eating lunch in his classroom. Normally he would not have lunch in his classroom. Maybe no lunch at all, honestly. But the fact remains that boring little dull Ouma Kokichi is stuck at his desk. Looking at chopsticks and thinking.

Why the fuck did he end up actually giving away personal information to some nebulous friend? Why? Why did said friend turn out to be a classmate?

A nervous Saihara nervously fiddles with his lunch. Barely seen eyes dart from rolled eggs to Kokichi's wobbling lips. There's nothing wrong with me you dumbest, Kokichi wants to say. His vocal cords are pussies though. Not even the nice kind. They just don't fucking know how to work.

Speaking of unreal bullshit, Kokichi is so damn intelligent that the one friend he spills his irl info soba over is his ERP friend. Saihara and he have been cybering fucked up kinks for months. Almost a year. Since before fucking school even started. Kokichi rips open his curry bread and slams it into his teeth. The person he role plays sex with is his classmate and they're eating lunch together. Awkwardly and with everyone whispering behind their backs.

Normal, Kokichi would text something ironic like 'choke me daddy'. The fact that he can barely even swallow food safely prevents thoughts of suddenly swallowing cock in public.

Wait fuck-

"S-so are you... Ar-are you okay Ouma-kun? You l-look like you're dying," Saihara quietly says. Concerned as if they're not just two huge horn dogs attempting to stay clothed.

Kokichi smashes his food into his mouth and starts to realize that he's... Probably the only person thinking that.

At all. Ever. He panics and tries to say something while inhaling his food. Hey, the window next to my seat makes me the protagonist! Your hat makes you feel like a serial killer. I've been thinking about you each day for almost a year, fucking propose to me. Get the fuck out of my life. Drool on my dick. Please take me.

Ten minutes later and Kokichi is going home for his fifth around of spontaneous choking. At least it wasn't on literal air this time.

He decides to burst out laughing and screaming once he makes it back home. His cat looks at him oddly from where the thing lays. In the food bowl today. Kokichi 'aaaaaah's at the floof ball once before shambling to his futon. He's going to be thinking of Saihara's wide panicked eyes tonight. Until the guy texts him. If he bothers to do that. Oh God, what if all Kokichi will ever have of the memories of those dull gold eyes full of concern? And the porn logs. Lots of porn.

So much porn... Strangely tempting and suddenly personal porn. Kokichi has homework to do. He should get up, go to his cheap glued together desk with its fake wooden finish. The just as cheap lamp that was once a bright sky blue. Just do work and study until all he can do is listen to equations in his brain.

Fuck 'strangely tempting'! Kokichi pushes himself up and scrambles to find his phone. It's hot erotic writing full of kinky bullshit involving Kirigiri and Ryuko/Junko. And that's just the one rp. Of course it's tempting.

Kokichi pauses as his cracked cell-phone slowly turns on. The screen greets him by glitching horribly. It reflects his emotions perfectly.

Saihara has talked about wanting to crossplay Kirigiri.

Yeah, that mountain of homework can just die or something. It can in fact set itself on God damn fire. Kokichi quickly opens the obscure chat app and-

There are twenty messages from Saihara alone.

He blinks down at the things with uncertainties swirling inside of him. He'll admit that Saihara has always been far more caring than he should be, but twenty? Why would anyone ever send twenty private messages to Kokichi? Purple eyes narrow as the alert gets clicked.

Ahhhhhh...

Kokichi scrolls down a mix of worried texts and ones listing personal observations about their lessons. It hasn't actually been all that long since Kokichi left school, but that's genuinely thoughtful of Saihara to do. Sweet. As if they don't basically kinda fuck all the time and stay up so late that sleep deprivation forces them to have oddly intimate conversations.

"Saihara... San? Kun! No that's just fucking stupid. He likes interesting things," Kokichi says to himself, patting his futon when his cat peeks into the room.

The cat glares at him and shakes it's fluffy butt. It then bounces backwards and runs away.

The doorway is empty of cat, and Kokichi yells, "Chanchan stop being so fucking wholesome and stupid!"

A heartbeat passes by.

"Saihara-chan!" the boy suddenly hisses. His wide eyes snap down to his phone and take in the most recent message. From Saihara-chan. Holy shit. Holy fucking God bless, Kokichi has a friend in real life, an attractive friend.

Purple eyes feverish with something a little tiny bit disturbing narrow into crescents.

Kokichi is going to fuck Saihara-chan irl too.

* * *

 

Ouma Kokichi is a selective mute that avoids people. The entire class knows this and has managed to band together in pitying him. Even the usual bullies don't touch him. He is small, almost frail considering everything, and so very cute. Most likely horrifically traumatized by some past event. That's just a little idea that Shuichi likes to theorize though.

At least, that's what Shuichi used to think until yesterday afternoon. He remembers it vividly. Trying for months to better connect to his only real confidant, someone who always manages to never reject him as a person despite... It doesn't matter why. Shuichi just loves his wonderful partner! There's no one else in the world that would be so considerate while still being frank. While still being willing to indulge Shuichi's horrible tendencies.

Shuichi glances over at Kokichi's abandoned desk with glassy eyes. To think that Ouma Kokichi would turn out to be such a perfect person. That Ouma Kokichi, a real human, would stay up late at night and tell Shuichi that he's a good person. Ouma Kokichi is-

A small and cute boy who is an overly critical and bitter person. His only outlet for any sort of thought or feeling is voiceless text. He's rude and likely just hates humanity, hiding it behind layers of faux academic paragraphs that could belong to lawyers. Shuichi knows no other person that would so gently and honestly say 'I care about you'.

And then spend hours roleplaying a graphic murder scene, knowing that Shuichi is getting off to it.

Shuichi's mechanical pencil lead breaks and rolls off of his desk. His watches it travel on the floor and absently clicks new lead out. Click, click, click. The last text he sent Kokichi was five minutes ago. He has fifty texts ready to to copied and sent, but that's-

That's creepy. Right? That's too much. Oh God, he used Kokichi again. The boy grabs at his hat and feels like he might be going insane with delight.

How is it possible to be this giddy and anxious?

He feels like laughing and laughing. Ouma-kun was in the same exact class and school for at least this whole year. Shuichi could have just tried or something, because surely it would be different from when other people would talk to the boy. It has to different. Ouma-kun is already friends with Shuichi. They share so much with one another that they could never talk about out loud.

Pale fingers twitch and pull out a Kirigiri protector case phone. Beautiful and strong Kirigiri. Her gaze always reminding Shuichi to keep his cool. Unfortunately not possible right now.

Which message, or a new one, what will make Kokichi a-

[Heeeey! Sorry about almost exploding in class. Do you wanna hang out after school? That cafe you like always sounds great. Let's go and I'll try to talk?]

Shuichi covers his mouth and smiles like a drunken fool. Kokichi texted him first and even wants to go on a date! Kokichi who likes it most when Shuichi ties him down and makes him into a bruised mess... Ah. Not irl though. That's too intimate and familiar.

Fidgeting to try and keep under control, Shuichi imagines Kokichi squirming against restraints. Bruises bringing his pale skin to life. Pasty face dyed red with pink lips stretching around a ball gag, saliva dribbling down. Rolling his hips as Shuichi's foot grinds into his groin. More, more and more things-

Like seeing red-

Shuichi gulps down spit and keeps doing his schoolwork. The fingers holding his phone twitch. His cock twitches thoughtfully in his pants.

Even if Kokichi says that he 'didn't not kinda like it', after they played that. That one night session that lasted hours into the morning. Even if Kokichi and Shuichi keep doing and going through with more and more. Real life is supposed to be different the way he told Kokichi it is. There's definitely no way that Shuichi could ever… Watching Dangan Ronpa is a totally different thing from art or written stuff. It's still too close to being real, Kokichi says. Shuichi easily looks and sees where the unspoken limits are. He's smart like that.

Looking at the real stuff is off limits, now.

He's not going to tell Kokichi that he has dreams of ripping him open, that Shuichi is desperate to see everything struggle to keep his fingers out, to see Kokichi's gorgeous eyes staring up into his own. Would there be fear? Would Kokichi's eyes be swimming with deadly masochistic cravings, like in their writing? Would Kokichi rather have a limb chopped off? Shuichi doesn't know and he doesn't want to ask. Doesn't even want to do it. Because then Kokichi wouldn't be around. Ever. That's unacceptable. That can't possibly ever happen. Shuichi would rather die first. When it becomes less an abstract and faint desire, the boy stops lying when he says 'it's something that should stay fiction'.

That's a normal sentiment with such things. Kokichi tells him that.

Kokichi doesn't know that Shuichi wants to suck on an imaginary slit in his throat, tongue caressing cut meat and teasing his jugular directly.

Shuichi smiles down at his phone and types, [Of course I do! I'd love to get to know you better. Do you want to meet me there or should I come get you?]

Getting to take care of Kokichi… having a name and face and body seen in glimpses during gym time. If Kokichi gets injured or hurt, Shuichi having nothing to do with it, ah! Golden eyes stare down at the three dots that signify Kokichi typing.

A disgusting and slimy leer paints itself onto Shuichi's flushed face. He's a gross and fucked up human being. Not a day goes by that Shuichi doesn't know and remind himself of that. There's not a second where he doesn't know. Wanting to remove the legs and keep the arms, because that way Kokichi can still hug him. It's not the fault of that one decades and decades old Hikoma doujin that he found when he was twelve. Sparks aren't fully to blame for fires.

Kokichi makes him feel like it's actually okay. Because fantasies are fantasies and Shuichi isn't a monster. He'd never actually do it. He'd never ever ever ever ever-

[I might get lost by myself,,, come get me at the park we pass on the way to school ;;] Kokichi replies.

The sight of such memey text is a bit abnormal to see from Kokichi, but Shuichi is too happy to care. He quickly fills Kokichi in on the lessons. All of his day is consumed by texting Kokichi and thinking about their date. Date. Shuichi is going to go on a date with Ouma Kokichi after months and endless possibilities being explored almost each day. They texted each other in class before! Kokichi laughs when Shuichi points this out. It fills the boy with a burning desire to know what Kokichi's actual laugh is like.

A tired teacher sighs while walking past Shuichi's desk. Everyone knows now that Shuichi is Kokichi's only contact. Both of them are top students too. Nothing is said as Shuichi completes his work. He leaves class with phone in hand and a skip in his step.

It's when the boy changes shoes that he freezes up in fear.

What if Kokichi tries to talk about the roleplaying and Shuichi says something gross…? Shuichi stares at his shoes, his phone, and slowly leaves the school.

Kokichi won't reject him. Kokichi can't possibly reject him.

Asphalt pebbles disrupt the smooth strides home that Shuichi is trying to make. The boy needs to get home and change into good clothing. He has to pick up Kokichi and take him to the cafe. Shuichi currently knows that standing still and clutches his hat is bad.

People are watching him why are they looking at him-

Oh God-

“Saihara-kun?” comes a familiar voice.

Golden eyes dart over to the face of Akamatsu Kaede, Shuichi jolting. The boy tries to imagine himself aggressively stabbing his anxiety and shoving soft mush into an old trunk. He squishes the perforated guts and slams them in. The bloody trunk gets pushed into a lake. After a few moments, the water is still.

Shuichi adjusts his hat and smiles despite clammy skin, “Hello A-akamatsu-chan!”

The girl pushes her hair back and frowns. Her purple-pink eyes glare at him. They're not the right kind of purple. Shuichi quickly looks away and wishes people wouldn't look in his eyes.

“Why are you and Ouma-kun suddenly friends?” she says, not asks, her voice stressing the ‘you’.

Hatred boils up and he can't stop from saying, “How is your sister, ‘Kaede’?”

Akamatsu twitches and walks away, hand gripping the locket around her neck. Memories of Debussy make Shuichi sick to his stomach.

Shuichi waits for ten minutes and continues to go home.

Saihara Shuichi is a horrible freak that is neither short nor tall. A shiny school identification card marks him as eighteen as of this month. His black hair sometimes looks like teal, seawater. His eyes have been described to him as yellow, gray, gold and more. Shuichi doesn't care though. They're dull and ugly mudwater. With likes and dislikes, a personality apart from an ambiguous appearance, Shuichi is simply disgusting. Detestable. There is something wrong with him and he knows it.

He barely thinks of himself as a person. Not until recently. Not unless he's with Kokichi.

Time belonging to Shuichi is spent living out gory fantasies online. When the boy is done his work, he indulges by writing mutual fiction and masturbating over death and suffering. He lovingly describes the sound of flesh parting- revels in imagining the sound of intimate inner anatomy getting stirred up. Both sex and fucking someone's guts or wounds.

All the best orgasms he has are while roleplaying with Kokichi. Hanging kink, amputation, teeth pulling and sticking needles through genitalia, eye gouging and fucking the socket after licking it clean-

Kokichi is attainable. Kokichi is real. Shuichi isn't making him up. Kokichi… accepts him. Trusts him, maybe. Makes Shuichi feel okay and fulfilled just by existing.

Kokichi can do it all to him instead, his brain says.

Shuichi stares into his closest and tries to ignore his erection. He needs to find an outfit. It's going to be dark soon. It's going to be time to pick up Kokichi s-

Kokichi glaring at him and smirking as he makes an incision. Where? Belly? Oh. Kokichi licking his lips, murmuring, telling Shuichi that his mudwater eyes are pretty. Shuichi would believe Kokichi if he says that they're like a precious metal. Dipping his tongue under an eyelid while Shuichi shakes in fear and arousal would come next. Fingers prying frantic eyelids apart. Hot breath.

Shuichi rubs at his abdomen and wonders how he got this fucked up. 


	2. Symbiotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi picks Kokichi up at a dilapidated playground and takes him to a café.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. Check end notes for specific warnings!

Shuichi makes it to the park just a little before sunset. The roads from his ‘look how rich my parents are’ apartment are winding and increasingly old. Occasionally, he looks at his phone and can't believe that time as passed. It feels like each person and bend in the road is surrealist paintings. The scenery is a timeless journey made to be ‘to and from school’. Going down it to meet with someone is just strange. 

Good though. It's Kokichi after all. 

Two laughing girls with identical haircuts walk past Shuichi. He cringes away from them as a hand adjusts his hat of its own accord. 

His hands both gripping tightly, one on a backpack strap, and the other the soft sleeve to his sweater. Both palms still rosy from rushed masturbation. Shuichi’s eyes stick to grayed asphalt with occasional glances around. For a good few minutes there is only the anxiety of this being a mistake after all. Kokichi will be repulsed by him sooner or later. For each step there's a new spike of emotion or thought. 

Telling him to go back to the apartment and cancel. A heavy weight of ink in his chest, invasive words spiraling into his brain, reminding him that Kokichi is always very very clear. 

‘I definitely don't care so long at its fictional, but this kind of stuff irl is just fucking sick. Wanting to cause real permanent maiming to real people is just psychotic. But the worst part is the hypocritical douches that salivate over DR and then act like they're perfectly moral angels for not tolerating people just like them. Just be honest and stop lying!’

Those messages swirl inside of Shuichi’s brain. Paraphrased and made more negative. 

Still the truth. 

Of course, it all pales in comparison to the fact that Kokichi is indeed waiting for him. Totally and utterly worth it. Shuichi’s heart skips a solid three beats. His lungs forget how to process air. Those inky tar flavored thoughts break with just a single bullet. Kokichi really is there waiting. For him. Leaning against a rusty metal railing with the park as a perfect backdrop. The most notable thing about his outfit even makes Shuichi's knees weak.

It's a hoodie that Shuichi remembers suggesting to the boy. Back during a time where they were both just getting closer. Shuichi had thought that Kokichi was a girl, and apparently vice versa, but went for more unisex style clothing just in case. So he sent pictures of a black hoodie with lavender tentacles reaching down. Sure, for their characters, but it sparked what is most engrossing and delightful conversation about fashion that Shuichi has ever had. 

Kokichi looks both stunning and amazingly comfortable in it. All baggy fabric with sleeves reaching knuckles. The contrast itself makes Kokichi look more lively, despite rather depressing surroundings. 

It makes Shuichi recall quick locker room glimpses of collar bones and bare skin. 

The fact that the other boy is wearing it must be some kind of sign. Of something that must be good. What else could wearing something suggested by Shuichi be, while on a date? Sure- Shuichi can acknowledge that Kokichi didn't actually ask him on a date. He just wants to hang out at Shuichi's favorite place. While wearing something like that.

After everything… 

Dazed eyes blink shut before Shuichi shakes his head clean of cobwebs. Standing around while Kokichi waits is both rude and undeniably creepy. The boy shivers, shifts, and tries to quietly approach. But being quiet might be creepy too, he realizes. 

Announcing himself would be awkward though. Wouldn't it be awkward? Still, they know one another. It's not weird at all.

He just wants Kokichi to approve of him a little. 

Shuichi gulps thickly around the nerves lumped in his throat, "K... Ouma-kun! Are you feeling better now?" 

Bright eyes, their purple hues usually drifting off towards the window, dart over to Shuichi as the boy finishes approaching. The hint of eye contact makes Shuichi flush. Said flush worsens into a full bodied blush as Kokichi smiles shyly. He would even go as far as to say apologetically too. As Shuichi's shoes scuff against gravelly roads and his eyes take in the unofficially abandoned children's park- he realizes that Kokichi isn't speaking. 

The boy steps back at the realization that Kokichi probably still can't speak. 

Even when no one else is around but them… 

"You don't have to answer right away or at all! It was a stupid question, you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel better in at least a little bit or-" Shuichi swallows the rest of his words. Not even a real date and he's already so insensitive.

Kokichi just smiles and pulls out his phone, fingers quickly tapping, and Shuichi stares at the boy in confusion. Not that he's confused for very long. The phone in his pants pocket buzzes from a notification. Shuichi quickly pulls it out and nearly squeals at the message he just received. Glances from phone to patiently waiting boy ensue. He's just so happy. They can speak after all! To think that an aspiring detective like himself didn't consider it, how shameful.

[It's totally fine to ask! And yep, feeling much better now. Thanks for asking Saihara-chan!]

The honorific is arguably too familiar and Shuichi just loves it. Kokichi really is his friend after all. So and free spirited. All tiny and downright pissed at so much, but he's happily smiling at Shuichi. The Ouma Kokichi at school never ever smiles, ever.

His heart beating rapidly, Shuichi coughs away the smile on his own face. Kokichi eyes him mischievously at that. Cute pinkish lips all smug and questioning. Like Kokichi can tell exactly what Shuichi did and is thinking about even now. Guilt even makes him want to confess. Or maybe just apologize. Yet, neither of those things happen as they both start walking instead. Kokichi tapping at his phone and Shuichi talking aloud. Almost exactly like their usual- where Kokichi starts out teasing and Shuichi gets flustered for a bit.

But it's difficult to actually think of it as the same. They're really not used to walking side by side. Shuichi isn't used to looking down and realizing that he's too close to someone in such a personal way. It's not at all like chatting online.

Instead of flinching back and apologizing, Shuichi stutters as he weaves away- but not really away- eyes stuck on how Kokichi's hair moves as they walk. On the other boy's smooth skin and the screen of his phone. How his tiny little fingertips are so good at typing on mobile. Kokichi wearing the hoodie that Shuichi suggested.

Kokichi's amazing scent.

The boy faintly recalls reading that finding someone's scent attractive means that you're compatible. 

[So I decided to check out that one fan event after all! Maybe we can go together lol] 

Shuichi gulps and watches a cat hiss at them from the top of a vending machine. Perhaps it can tell that Shuichi is gross. If so, though he hates to think it, then technically- Kokichi actually likes what they write too. The other boy even admits it. Not just saying that Shuichi writes well. Kokichi thinks that Shuichi’s messed up kinks are not only okay to have in a fictional respect but-

The boy almost trips over his feet at the memories. Remembering such things is probably a bad idea. Even if Shuichi has already taken care of an erection today. He's still only 18. Surprise boners could happen. Shuichi knows that he's the exact type of scum for it. 

Oh God, Kokichi getting a boner-

One of his ugly mud eyes getting removed so that Kokichi can fuck him there, and God it would certainly hurt in reality, oh it just wouldn't feel anything like good for Shuichi at all- but it would have to be warm and tight and wet- Kokichi would be so loud-

How deep is an eye socket? Shuichi’s mind can't quite remember.

Having blood, ocular fluids, and cum gush out would be far prettier than the eye already in there. He's horrible for thinking it. But it's the truth. 

Imagining it, wouldn't it also be grossly romantic for Shuichi to grab Kokichi's hips and then just thrust himself down? Turning his own head into a mere sex toy for Kokichi's pleasure. It would be undeniably horrible to experience. Beyond masochistic. Horrifically painful and maybe not even wet enough. Any lube would probably sting and later cause an infection of some sort. Probably anything would. Maybe there's a chance for the trauma of it all to just kill him.

He'd be so happy to die from Kokichi's cock brutalizing him. 

That's basically what Shuichi got off to earlier too. 

Yet he wouldn't see Kokichi ever again, once dead. The other boy would probably hate himself and commit suicide, or go to jail first, or just waste away. 

Or hide the body and pretend that Shuichi never existed. 

Kokichi might cry his eyes out. 

Each night. 

Forever. 

It is suddenly very easy for Shuichi to decide that he doesn't want to die via Kokichi's hands. At least not like that. If they were to die together then… but no. Shuichi is almost started at the quiet intensity of his next thoughts. 

He doesn't want silent and lonely Ouma Kokichi to die. Inside or out. 

Like earlier, like during school and jerking off in his room, Shuichi-

An insistent buzz makes the boy's hand jolt, almost sending Shuichi’s Kirigiri decorated cellular device to the ground.

[Hey Saihara-chan!] 

[Hey hey heeeeeeeeeeeeeeereeeeey] 

[Saaaaaaiiiihara-chan! Start paying more attention and stop acting like a drugged pigeon. You're behaving like someone who would absentmindedly walk into oncoming traffic¡!] says a few texts from Kokichi's account.

Embarrassed, the boy tugs at his hat. Shuichi definitely spaced out again. It's definitely his own fault for being such a horrible pervert. His current company would never think these things in this situation. Though the thought of Kokichi getting hard is-

Very, very very, very much a nice mental image. Trying to do reenactments of things from rps too. Definitely not the eye socket fucking though. 

Maybe he should think less gore and more bondage.

Looking around to check where they are reveals that they're just a corner away from the café. Shuichi swallows again, "I'm sorry about that! I didn't mean to ignore you at all. Uhm..."

Kokichi pouts thoughtfully. It's such a lovely and lively kind of expression. Totally different from how the other boy is during school. Shuichi almost dies from the urge to just take photographic evidence. He has a friend! Kokichi is his friend and is capable of expressing more than apathy! Wow, gosh, today is just… 

Shuichi’s mind is squealing with absolute glee. Nothing can top this feeling.

Ten minutes later and Shuichi now understands. He has made a fatal error. He thought about literal skull fucking right before bringing Kokichi into a place worthy of awe. Not even the decor and interior either. Rather, the menu is all things that deserve Kokichi's wide eyed gaze. Those beautiful purple irises are downright shining with glee. The boy is even making little gasp noises. 

All Shuichi can think about is licking them or touching them. Kokichi making such cute inhales and exhales is too much. Just far too much. What kind of reaction would Shuichi get if he carefully snipped-

It's just no good. 

Kokichi starts to seem uncomfortable at Shuichi’s lack of comfort. 

Getting up and ordering, himself a plain black coffee and donut combo while getting Kokichi an outrageous duo of ‘things’, doesn't help in the slightest. Bringing the food back just makes Kokichi's expression even better. So excited and in awe, near greedily taking his drink and desert. They're both in Shuichi’s usual secluded spot too. Potentially anything could happen in their little slice of café. Like- like hand holding under the table! 

Or gagging one another on merciless fingers!

Choking Kokichi while forcing him down onto the table! 

Kissing his neck and giving him hickies, slowly! 

No, no, like earlier. Shuichi can't think about doing it to Kokichi. He'd hate for it to actually happen. And why did something as vanilla as kissing come up after choking… 

Shuichi fidgets and watches pink lips disappear behind a large mound of thick whip cream. A loud hum of appreciation goes right to the boy's growing arousal. In this moment, he hates his penis so much. Perhaps Kokichi would like cutting it off and sparing Shuichi the inherent torture of having it. Though he did basically tempt chance by considering surprise boners. He takes a sip of his own coffee and wishes he weren't so stupid. 

A moment passes as Shuichi realizes that his brain is actually a genius. Like earlier, just like earlier, why shouldn't it be Kokichi doing things? It's not like either of them are a ‘100% Only X’ type. How silly of Shuichi to forget his own epiphany. It's much less objectionable when it's Shuichi thinking about it happening to himself. 

Shuichi begging to get bitten until Kokichi gets to lick up blood!

Kokichi kissing his hands and massaging them! 

Ah, he went back into vanilla territory. Though Shuichi does acknowledge that there are plenty of affectionate and intimately wholesome moments too. In their rps. Where they fuck all the time. 

It's still just so much easier when he considers Kokichi to be in the dominant role. Like all the issues on consent fade away when the other person is the doer, the giver, the one commanding or allowing the hurt. Not even Shuichi’s own brain can fully comprehend it. Shuichi’s body being the one getting maimed simply makes it better. Less objectionable. Because he knows that he wants. He doesn't really know what Kokichi wants. 

When Kokichi is the one doing and fulfilling his desires, albeit made up ones, Shuichi feels less like a monster for wanting what he does. 

Shifting and staring into black-plum hair gives no answers to Shuichi’s always present internal conflict. Kokichi continues to make completely unfair sounds. This is the most Shuichi has ever seen the other boy eat. Also the most noise. 

Kokichi is utterly precious and would look amazing with everything below thigh removed. Cute stub socks and more. Less. Already unable to move much and even less if tied up. Just as before, Shuichi can't help but want those arms to stay. Some dehumanization kink is totally great and all, sure, but Kokichi welcoming him home and hugging him and then Shuichi can carry him into the bath-

It would be horrible to do the actual amputation in real life… 

Although, that is the safety of online role-playing. This exact strain idea is why Shuichi appreciates it. Why he's so glad that Kokichi even exists at all. Maybe it would be more like, for the skull fucking concept, carefully removing one and then waiting for it to heal up. Followed by exploring. Gently caressing and soon fingering- it would be so heavenly intimate to feel. Inflicting sensual touches upon a place never even intended to be seen. Taboo and so very alluring. 

Remove something disgusting and then-

Lovely. 

Kokichi's wonderful purple eyes would be glued to Shuichi’s own. To his face. How achingly hard the boy's cock would be. 

It would be mutual, right? 

It'll end up being mutual, right? 

Shuichi smiles into his coffee as the burning liquid makes his tongue burn worse than his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought the last chapter was bad on the gore being explicit, this chapter has some pretty graphic sexual fantasy of Shuichi getting an eye socket fucked. And then considering he'd die from it. Made by Shuichis, for Shuichis, sponsored by Shuichis.


	3. Parasite

Café dates are an exercise in suffering. It's just not going how the Internet says it should. Google-senpai lies.

Sure, Kokichi is aware that the Internet is not a monolithic replacement for real life. But also fuck that bullshit, real life can suck his virginal cock. Hours spent getting ready and money spent ‘getting ready’. Precious minutes full of anxiously hugging Chanchan while fretting. Muttering into the bathroom mirror and trying to say full sentences. Followed by what can only be called type-babbling to your crush. Like some cliche anime character. 

A moe waifu. It's him. Kokichi is the agency-less cuteness blob now. 

In conclusion: Ouma Kokichi is either having the time of his life, or wasting both. 

Imagine going on a date with the guy you have a burning need to fuck. He picks you up. Gets flustered easily because he's super cute. You walk side by side until you reach your date location of choice. It's a café that even has a fireplace! The decor is both sophisticated and cozy. You sit in the back, away from eyes. You order something outrageously sweet so you can make tempting noises, on purpose. 

This is Kokichi's life in real time. Making the most noise he possibly can while eating sensually. Tiny moans and appreciative hums as if he's eating Saihara's dick cream and not various cow creams. It's pretty great. 

Except for the whole ‘Saihara is lost in thought’ elements. 

Golly gee oh boy, is the rather androgynously beautiful shit lost in thought. It's like there was an internal grey matter explosion, resulting in acute ‘stupid motherfucker’ disease. Saihara is downright adrift in a terrible state called not paying attention to Kokichi. The stupid fucker. 

Kokichi pouts. Not cutely though, it's a very enraged pout. 

Spoon penetrating layers of sponge cake, fresh cream, red bean paste, scooping up matcha ice cream and fruits like strawberries. Using waffle chips to eat dollops of rich custard. Kokichi's chosen parfait even has mochi on it. Once in a while the boy gets something on his fingers- to which his response is some not so quick licks. Practically giving his spoon a slow blowjob the whole time. Not a single drop hits the dark lacquered wood of their table. 

None of that is enough to get Saihara's attention. Kokichi is starting to suspect that he could strip, climb onto this stupid table, and spread his already fingered ass while lovingly detailing how much effort he put into cleaning out; only to find Saihara drinking coffee while staring into space. 

Deep cleaning and all Kokichi gets is ‘is this a pigeon’ tier staring. 

It's the most mind-numbingly annoying fuckery that Kokichi has ever seen. Here he is aiming for sex- while Saihara isn't even in the same solar system. 

Kokichi plays with his hair on nervous instinct, letting his spoon rest with the tall parfait glass. He leans back into the padded booth seat and grabs his latte. A cute little face stares up at him. Utterly mocking. Also utterly delicious, so Kokichi slurps the decorative expression in an act of food brutality. 

What exactly is going wrong with his seduction plan? Did Saihara not notice the hoodie? Doesn't he hear all the embarrassingly sexual mewls? How the fuck is Kokichi going to get Saihara to raw him at this rate? Why did he even decide that this was a great idea to do? Or… 

Is it because Kokichi isn't talking?

He then, finally, looks up at Saihara's face. 

Everything about the other boy's expression screams horny. It's just full of thirsty energy. 

Delight and elation rushes over Kokichi like a wave crashing into a skeletor incel bitchboy trying to surf for the first time. Gratification is instantaneous and stabs like lightning. Vicious, almost spiteful, a maligned sense of victory blooming inside. Purely because of that enraptured look on Saihara's face. Except that Kokichi's joy isn't just from that. His total glee and the need to burst out laughing isn't from only that. Saihara is the only one that stayed. Throughout all of Kokichi's sinking reliance on the internet, Saihara is the only person who has lasted a year. 

That's why Kokichi can't let him go. He knows that he's actually detestable. He knows exactly what and why- with his disgusting unworkable vocal cords too-

Kokichi can barely prevent himself from pushing a shoe off, and shoving his foot into Saihara's crotch. The boy across from him gulps as if knowingly. All Kokichi can think is that there has to be an erection going on. Not even a second passes before Saihara glances up at him. Both of them must be horrible at hiding their true thoughts too. Even though he was thinking about giving a spontaneous foot job, Kokichi feels himself turn a bright red. It's perfectly matched by how Saihara puts his coffee back up to his mouth- to hide himself. They both keep awkward eye contact though. 

The white cup is placed back on its saucer. The click is quiet yet invigorating. Kokichi easily sees that the cup is completely emptied of coffee. 

Oh fuck, the boy thinks, do something you fucking weak ass. Another part of Kokichi's brain screams, but what the fuck do I even do? The answer remains the same either way. Something has to be done, anything is fine, everything possible is better than nothing. 

Kokichi picks up his latte and holds it out towards Saihara. With a small smile that is seconds away from breaking. 

I'm so fucking dumb that I could just riparoony, the boy internally whines. 

Yet his foolishness is apparently contagious, because the golden eyed boy leans forward and takes a sip of his latte- pale hands resting over his own. Everything about it is far too much and too little. The most human contact that he's had in a long time. Sweaty hands holding his own. Kokichi can't give a single shit though. They're warm, the mug is warm, it's the best fucking thing. Better than shitting all over Chiaki and Mikan in a ten page essay on Hifumi being best character. Posting that thing had been the highlight of Kokichi's month. This is the highlight of Kokichi's fucking year. Gold looks up at his burning face- both mutually bashful. 

An unexpectedly sly smile darts across Saihara's face. Just for a split second before the boy looks away. Kokichi wants to scream out that Saihara Shuichi should keep looking at him. 

He manages a melty vocal squirm that might be wordlike. 

Progress. 

Saihara exhales slowly. Thumb rubbing both ceramic and Kokichi's skin. His eyes dart between latte and purple eyes. Gulping, “Thank you… but uh-”

No buts unless it's your ass you fucking ass, Kokichi thinks as his heart gets ready to shatter. Jesus tap dancing piss- what if Saihara doesn't even like men? Irrational considering they've both spoken at length about their sexualities. Saihara is a thirsting bi, Kokichi is almost entirely interested in only fictional anything, their first ship to rp was Ryoko and Kyoko. A curved type of ruler. So both of them are compatible but there's a but coming up and Kokichi is going to be looking at their rp logs andcrywankingfortherestofhislife-

“This. All of this is a date, right?! And you're- Ouma-kun is,” those eyes pierce into him like warning lights, and Saihara's hands clamp down around Kokichi's own. 

“Ah…” 

It's a clear sounding vocalization and Kokichi doesn't recognize it. Not at first. He's too busy staring wide-eyed-mouth-open. Maybe the firstish real person for Kokichi to ever sexually want is, just a bit, also interested. 

Chapped yet soft lips lurch forward to hit the side of Kokichi's mouth. 

The last time he kissed someone had him very much deciding that it was the most repulsive thing. Real porn is a ‘once a month still image’ affair. Actual Sex in actual reality is a mess of biological processes that Kokichi just can't like. He appreciates realistic erotic writing. He likes drawn depictions of either sex. Gravitates towards dicks, but hey, vaginas are self cleaning and that's fucking amazing. Even if he's even less attracted to girls irl. All humans are just as entertaining when ‘frothing from rabies’ tier pissed off. 

Bottom line? Kokichi is mildly scared at how he's dropping his latte for the sake of suddenly smooches. Splash and sploosh, coffee ruined and mug wondering what life means. 

It's awkward and uncomfortable to be an upside-down triangle over the table. They're trying to pull one another over, like some childish tug of war, and Saihara is awful at kissing. Full virgin style on thinking that nipping and biting is actually useful. Kokichi's face hurts from his nose and Saihara's nose just- just doing a weird Eskimo Head Bang Fight. Coffee and donut mixes with parfait and latte. 

Kokichi can barely even breathe and it's wonderful. There drool spilling over into him and it's gross, but that's fineish. Most things are fine in the face of total validation. Saihara definitely brushed his teeth too. It tastes like a subtle yet important hint of antiseptic mouthwash. Everything is warm and soft like a headache finally going away. Sparks of fluffiness are rearing up. 

Just a single issue is that Saihara's tongue still feels slimy and utterly gag worthy. 

Not quite wanting to, the boy finally pushes his apparently mutual love interest away and sinks into the booth just in case. A sense of utter dizziness fills Kokichi's mind. Smoke being blown into his brain, drugged with giddiness, filling the boy up by flowing in through his mouth. It's probably a good sign. 

After a year- this has to be what love is. 

“Ouma-kun I'm- Oh God I, I'm sorry I just wa-wanted to… Ouma-kun?” Saihara babbles with concern and clearly not real regret. 

Purple eyes fall half lidded as their owner's hands clutch black-lavender fabric. Slowly, an almost deranged smile wobbles it's way across bruised lips- and Kokichi gladly tastes hints of copper. Pulses of arousal make it hard to hide. That's fine though. His date clearly can't regret kissing him, is what the boy's eyes say to his brain. No one just spontaneously kisses someone who they don't like. At least not in this situation. 

Saihara is so hard. 

It's fine. Kokichi is too.

That's just… Saihara really really wants him, right? He could be imagining other things, but why the kiss then? It's obvious that they're both attached. Twelve months and thus three hundred something days of knowing.

How many times has Kokichi masturbated to the point of achy pain? Always because of whatever subject matter they've obsessed over. Kokichi has lost track of how often he's cum to the fantasy of being pushed down after begging, humiliation paired with unrealistic need, consumed by sleep deprivation and lust. The other boy has great hands too. Those erotic choking fantasies will have a great start. 

More too. Never just that. There's always more itchingly and objectively messed up ideas inside of their heads. Of course, fantasy and reality are two different things. Living it all out is why BDSM exists. Kink is great. 

Like that article about the Domme that has a client with a cannibalism fetish. Nobody actually gets eaten, they just pretend to be cooking him and the dude cums. Hallelujah, somehow, magically there are ways to not die for the sake of a fetish. 

He's totally never considered how fulfill Saihara's more extreme kinks. Definitely. 

It doesn't count because Kokichi likes them too. 

Saihara makes some warbling noises that might be words. It makes Kokichi's lips twist even wider, giggles filling the atmosphere, and the boy finally tries to answer right. But God he just sounds ‘slow’ and words aren't even forming right. Indistinct noises aren't language. His date only gets more worried. Fair? Yeah, Kokichi isn't sure if anything is real right now. No point in picking up his cell phone when his hands are trembling from excitement.

Those beautiful gold eyes are getting wet. 

Adorable. 

The other boy is so overwhelmingly adorable when distressed. He would look even better crying too, humongous tears welling up while making his eyes puffy red. Preferably while getting face fucked by Kokichi's cock. 

Kokichi shakily forces himself back up and yanks Saihara's hair until they're kissing again. Moaning appreciatively, the boy notices how Saihara whimpers nicely with each tug of hair. They part again as Kokichi continues to pull and grip. Each new tug of hair makes Saihara's face screw up into a pleasured grimace. Second pass as both boys get more caught up in the heat and the moment. 

“Ouma-kun! Ouma… kun, ple-please don't stop, ah!” the boy whines lowly before squeaking. “I like you. I really really want to d-date you more after this! Sorry, I'm sorry, this whole time I just couldn't stop-”

Golden eyes look at Kokichi with such shame and guilt that it's ironic. They've know one another for two different versions of a year and now a combined day. It's easy to figure out why Saihara is ashamed. Admittedly, consideration for the possibility of his gore wanker friend being a psycho killer has been applied. Saihara is also known as a creep in class too. The boy naturally understands the risk of murder. Especially when you know that you both essentially roleplay murder fetish porn sometimes. But Kokichi is the local pity sink, so honestly… who would care? 

Obviously Saihara does but that's just-

He frowns and releases Saihara's hair from getting abused by a single tiny fist. 

Saihara seems to like him back. That's good. But what if Saihara starts expecting things? What happens when Saihara expects Kokichi to do things, or say things? 

A relationship. 

If only Kokichi gets what he wants then it's just him using Saihara. 

A relationship is something for everyone else. Yet-

Whimpers and skin being rubbed over jeans, “Ouma-kun please let me- nngh, Ouma-kun! Aaah… can't h-help it anymore, I'm so sorry. You're so fucking perfect for me. Ouma-kun is so perfect! Want to see how you'd look with bites and bruises everywhere. I want to see how cute you are with-”

There's the sound of a zipper being pulled down. 

“But I don't-”

Saihara's face is a mess of lust and conflict. 

Kokichi stops leaning over the table Eiffel Tower style, darts around to Saihara's side, and kisses him until Saihara is getting smashed into the seat.


	4. Partnership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date evolves out if control, but Shuichi is happy with the end results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow... This happened.

Shuichi’s head hurts when it near slams into the wall behind him. It still stings and aches from strands of hair being pulled and tugged. All the same, each second of Kokichi's hands pushing him further and farther into the uncomfortable position is sublime. All of it is nothing less than perfect. His mouth is being conquered by soft lips, Kokichi is grinding his erection against Shuichi’s leg and oh-

Who cares about a future neck ache when the boy Shuichi has been crushing on, since forever, is groping the tent in his boxers? Certainly not Shuichi himself. 

The sentiment rings true right after he thinks it. Shuichi really likes the boy above him. 

Kokichi parts from him, the other boy panting slightly. Dazed yellow-brown eyes snap open when almost word like noises reach his ears. It's like hearing those first few drops of a light rain. Tiny, half there, aborted gasps in the mimicry of vowels. Parted lips made petal pink from rough kissing. Even a slowly deepening flush contrasting against pale skin, purple eyes glaring down at Shuichi’s awed expression.

"Oh, excuse me? Are you two alright, there are some... Oh my," says someone that is decidedly neither of them.

Possibly around their age and possibly a classmate. 

Shuichi freezes and slowly tilts his head to look behind Kokichi's looming body. He prays that he's simply hallucinating from a potent mix of excited anxiety, arousal, and frenzied validation. If there's anything that could make a spontaneous cockblock appear, then it must be that combination. There's no way that someone would actually mistake rough makeouts as anything else. Let alone approach. Yeah. Shuichi just has to murder the hallucination.

Yet Kokichi also stiffens, face filling up with shame and fear, turning around to look at the interloper.

At this point Shuichi’s hard-on is much less solid than before. The sudden interruption and sure to ensue judgements are also making his... Not quite boyfriend soft too. Of all possible results, the boy didn’t see this coming. Despite the public setting, and his loudness, something in Shuichi’s brain never connected the dots.

Unpleasantly itchy heat fills Shuichi’s face as he struggles to get up, because now Kokichi will definitely resent him for-

"I understand! However, I believe that public affection on this scale disrupts agreed upon public decency and laws. You should go to your homes or a love hotel," exclaims a strange looking boy. "Since attractiveness, and hormones aside, you two should know better. Please stop trying to have intercourse."

Kokichi twitches, "hh...?"

Raising an eyebrow at the somewhat stilted speech, Shuichi manages to separate himself from Kokichi's limbs. Throughout all of which the boy just stares at them with intense blue eyes. The two boys awkwardly gather up their belongings and refuse to look at one another too closely. Or maybe it's that the oddly nonchalant gaze of this stranger, probably their age, is just too pure to meet.

Disgruntled noises from deep inside Kokichi's throat none withstanding. Honestly, Shuichi really wishes that he could just use his 'just kill the feeling with your imagination' method on this very very mood killing human being.

"S-sorry about this," the boy murmurs to his friend. A safe word, friend. Friends don't usually kiss or go on dates though. 

Maybe not friend then. 

Purple eyes dart up at him, at how his hat is getting secured once more, and Kokichi quickly looks down at the floor. The heart inside of Shuichi’s chest plummets straight down to the ground. Just minutes ago there had been attempts at speaking after so much wonderful contact. Not some strange boy has basically ruined the whole damn day.

"Alright, that is good. Would you like me to escort you to the exit?" asks the boy who is obviously just mocking them. With an air of totally sincere cheer.

Shuichi’s fidgeting lips form a disbelieving and utterly sarcastic smile. He easily beats down the urge to strangle, unfortunately, most of his body screaming at the loss of Kokichi's touch. The feeling in him can only be described as finding the most perfectly formed and most beautiful rose, only for someone to rush out from behind and just kill-maim-murder the poor thing to death. And not in a sexually appealing way.

"No... Thank you. Uh, what did you say your name was?" the boy eventually forces out.

"My apologies for forgetting to introduce myself to you both! I am Kiib-"

Kokichi grunts in disgust, sneering almost audibly on its own, and walks right in between 'kiib' and Shuichi. The later is so aghast at the idea of being utterly dumped that he doesn't quite register the hand holding his own. Not until he's getting yanked away so hard that he squeals at the force. The boy yelps again when he's tugged at until his feet find the proper pace.

"Excuse me? Are you okay? Are you leaving already? I am Kiibo! Ah... Hello?"

Glancing back and forth from the white haired boy and a rapidly typing Kokichi, halfway to the door, Shuichi barely gets time to open his mouth before a calm artificial voice proclaims a string of obscenities. Including but not limited to; "God fucking mother damn bitch cunt cockblocking train conductor hair gel sucking piece of shit."

"Ouma-kun that is n-not, at all! Po-polite," Shuichi hisses as he gets dragged out of the cafe. That he won't be going back into for a month. Or ever. Good God.

He merely receives a burning look full of pinched together lips and fury. But the hand capturing his relaxes into something gentle as they march away. Shuichi instinctively clings onto it despite himself. It's warm. A bit sweaty just the same of Shuichi’s own is. Kokichi himself makes no overt movements that could speak of disengagement. They simply continue to walk hand in hand until they reach a bench near a vending machine.

It takes maybe three minutes for Shuichi's hands to finish buying two drink, a grape Fanta and a decaffeinated iced coffee, and he barely has time to hand the soda over- too busy looking into Kokichi's eyes to move. The boy is just staring up at him. A sense of unsureness lurks in their private atmosphere. It's a feeling uncharacteristic to the faceless person that Shuichi has known for a year. Yet it's something that seems inherent to the Ouma Kokichi that he's seen each day at school.

That's completely correct actually. Each day of school is a day where one boy has seen the other, if only in the impersonal manner of one being an unfortunate satellite friend and the other boy being the class's pity pet. Any change could result in either of them being outcasts and then victims. Shuichi has been tangentially aware of it for some time. It makes him squirm with guilt stabbing at his guts.

Even if Shuichi keeps flipping and flopping between things... He's absolutely someone that never quite bothered to interact with Kokichi before. And now he's spent a whole day or more fantasizing about the other boy. Struggling with some nebulous internal conflict that Kokichi probably doesn't care about at all. That's-

A carbonated hiss and a crack fill the air before Kokichi gulps down his beverage.

Pale fingers tap into the can, the other hand typing at almost crazy speeds, [That guy was an asshole and probably likes ntr.]

"That's," Shuichi cuts himself off and snorts violently, the words breaking him out of his spiral into self loathing. Really- it's like Kokichi isn't bothered by what Shuichi is in the least. Maybe the topic doesn't even come to mind. The silent boy just seems so sure of himself. 

Seems probably being the keyword. All that cursing and that glimpse of mortification have to come from somewhere. There's still the fact that Kokichi can be depended on for crassness and rude behavior.

"If you want to write f-five paragraphs on it then I'll wait?" he quietly says, trying to fight the mixture of shifting thoughts in his brain.

No use in giving into intrusive thoughts, the boy tells himself. He's already thought about all this stuff before. Retreading old worries just because one upsetting thing happened isn't constructive. Besides, Kokichi is smiling. Eyes widening with surprise, Shuichi watches Kokichi's lips wobble and stretch. Spreading towards his ears with white teeth peaking out until Kokichi realizes- and soon enough huffs of air fill up the street. After that comes bursts of sound that make Shuichi’s heart lighten and swell.

Growing more and more, phone resting on black cloth, hesitantly loud laughter bubbles out from Kokichi's body. It halts several times as the boy covers up his mouth, but not even the glances of passersby can stop it. Ouma Kokichi is definitely laughing.

"Nhghnheee- hehehhe, pfffthaaha! Ehehe... Y-you-uhehehe! Hhh... Shhihsh," the boy tries to hold back, one arm wrapped around his middle.

Shuichi is pretty sure that he just heard an actual word, but honestly he's too busy starting to laugh in response to fully register it. The laughing coming out of Kokichi's mouth is erratic and sounds like a dozen things slapped together. It's overwhelmingly endearing to hear. Like something that Shuichi could spend hours listening to. Really, he'd be perfectly fine with never actually being spoken to- just so long as he gets to make Kokichi smile and laugh like this again. It's been so long since he saw messages of how things like vc made the other boy uncomfortable, so he never asked, but now Shuichi is regretting it. Getting to hear this sooner would have been amazing.

Rubbing away a sudden burn in his eyes, Shuichi coughs away his own giggle fit to no avail.

A tug at his sleeve makes the boy near jump out of his skin. Blinking harshly, he finds purple eyes gazing fondly at him. Kokichi's smile his more stable now. Small and soft like a labor of love painting. The phone held just below isn't something that Shuichi is ready to read just yet. Even if he can tell infer that the other boy isn't mad at him. Infer might not be the right word.

He's been wrong before after all…

Memories of two blonde girls flit by at the thought. Black clothing in a crowd of... Shuichi gulps and decides to just bite the proverbial truth bullet.

[I'm glad that mister DumplingGore has returned to the same planet as me! Dates are probably better when both ppl are present =0! And thanks for the panta. Always great when I get to drink pant.]

"It's Fanta!" Shuichi protests.

[MY rompers said it was panta! Stop erasing the one purely good thing from dr season 20!] Kokichi replies with a grin.

Groaning as he opens his coffee, Shuichi sits down next to Kokichi and grumbles. Overly aggressive product placement is the worst thing about season twenty. Which is exactly what Kokichi loves about it. The familiar feeling of banter puts Shuichi at ease. People pass by them as time flows, a mixed conversation of text and voice carrying them down from earlier mood whiplash, and their hands end up inching together.

There's a quick dart of black-plum hair and a peck of warmth- followed by Shuichi squeaking.

Kokichi's mischief filled eyes near shine with glee. It's not something that Shuichi can say he's capable of returning, but the other boy seems pleased by his heavy blush.

Glancing away to watch street lamps switch on is kind of pathetic. Their drinks are gone, it's dark, and Shuichi’s right hand is protected from the chill of night. He's content now. As far as each jumbled emotion could possibly be pinned. In total, he's happy. Somewhat thankful that the sudden frenzied need from earlier got interrupted. There's a lot to actually talk about.

"So..." Shuichi exhales slowly as the temperature drops. Do you want me to walk you home? That's too stalkery. See you at school tomorrow? God, that's so dismissive. Can we try this again sometime? Stupidly desperate and not very flattering. "Is there something you still wanted to do? Ouma-kun pro-probably has curfew soon so!" 

If only he could become one of those head in sand birds. Kokichi likes those too. 

Just let a vehicle run me over soon, Shuichi’s brain groans. Maybe that will end the cocktail of nerves and eighteen year old boy awkwardness.

[Actually, I mean YEAH but like, nah. To all of that. Well.] Kokichi's fingers collide strongly into the pop up keyboard of his smartphone. [Do you want to rp tonight? I'm sure it's a little weird now, but also date me more before I explode.]

Both of their gazes snap towards one another, mutually wide, and the mix of bashful determination shared between them is dizzying.

[PWWWWEEEEAAASEEE,,,,,, daaadeee before I ewupt wike a ok fuck that. Look, we've basically been dating for… damn half a year. I'm very willing to risk whatever this limbo is. Go out on a limb. Branches of olives extending. Really lewd branches. They might just be vines. Phallic vines.]

"You promised not to mention that!"

Kokichi huffs out a chuckle or two at his shrill response. Huffing more impatiently, Shuichi gets up and throws away their long since emptied cans. They bounce in the trash bin mockingly. It's not his fault that the dentist got him high when they removed that tooth. And the picture really did have phallic vines, honestly.

Sitting back down and immediately grabbing Kokichi's hand, Shuichi mumbles, "I'd... Like to- t-to daaa... date Ouma-kun more."

Closed eyes don't save him from the artificial voice of Kokichi's phone reading off, "I'm top."

"Ouma-kun please!" the boy sputters, eyeing his smirking official basically- "We only just started dating! T-there, we, Ouma-kun! Earlier was way too hasty and honestly really impolite and there's no way can Oh my god we almost had our d- dicks oh god- mmmph."

A warm hand covers Shuichi’s mouth until his jaw stops moving beneath it, getting replaced by Kokichi's lips and a simple, "Kay..."

[Let's go slowly in meat space and stay filthy online then! I'm sure we can manage self control! Your precious permavirginhood will remained unthreatened by my lecherous ways. (✧≖‿ゝ≖) but I'm pretty sure that you were thinking dirty the whole time... I wonder what it was? ewe] Kokichi shows him after they separate. He looks even more smug than before. 

Looking down at his lap with the images, less vivid, pass through his mind; Shuichi smiles sheepishly. Probably not the best idea to outright say it. Eventually, they're going to be talking about it face to face. Dating means communication has to happen, and they already are in a way. Still not something to say in public. There's already a scandalized granny squinting at them. 

Yeah, opening up with a one liner about viscera being attractive just isn't going to happen. Shuichi coughs,,   
"Uhhhh. Well, there... I'll tell you larynx? Later! I-i definitely mean later and online!"

Kokichi just smirks wider and leans over to give him another peck. It's too much for Shuichi's brain to process. He lets his boyfriend's hand grip onto his own, wheezing at the thoughts making his stomach flutter up to his throat. The reaction isn't nearly as gentle as it sounds. It's violently everywhere and nowhere- razor sharp butterflies cheerfully cutting away. Yet there's no pain to speak of as they walk back towards the playground. Kokichi manages to make him feel alright and almost normal. Just by being there. 

Like always.

By the time they part at the playground, with a kiss, Shuichi feels better than he has all day. It's not the frantic kind of glee from before, and the boy finds that he can appreciate it better.

He walks back home with his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Wondering how to bring up his new ideas without seeming too creepy, smiling. Also dropping his keys periodically due to Kokichi sending past rp highlights. Shuichi just giggles to himself and heads into the logs, aiming to fight fire with fire. 

Today… is definitely a good day, Shuichi decides as he walks up the steps to his apartment. He adjusts his hat and swallows. 

Definitely. 

[Hey Dumpling, let's try to sext instead of rp tonight! I bet you have all kinds of 'juicy' ideas now ©÷©] 

Shuichi drops his keys down a gap in the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K1-B0 frowns while watching the two strange young men walk off, not understanding the majority of what the text to speech program is telling him. Perhaps an inquiry about a slang words being added to the database is necessary. Though some profanity is recognizable. But... 
> 
> Why would 'train conductor hair gel' be an insult? 
> 
> K1-B0 decides that the boy in the octopus hoodie must have a malfunctioning phone. Understandable. Phones, unlike K1-B0, are very prone to malfunctioning. Or they were just rude perverts. That's not very hopeful though. 
> 
> "Professor, good news! It was not murder after all!" the robot calls out while beginning to walk back. "It was merely two young people attempting public coitus, and they have properly educated on decency!"

**Author's Note:**

> I've always figured that Pregame Shuichi would be into super fucked up shit. I kinda touch on that in my fics. But like... Don't I shy away from it too? I get that kind of thought often. So here is pregame Shuichi and his fucked up gore and snuff kink. 
> 
> Seriously though what the fuck my dude. I was just aiming to be factual and not graphic... And Shuichi decides to not comply because he must be a gore baby. 
> 
> Warnings! Right off the bat I'll just: Shuichi wanting to fuck literal guts and play around with them. Eyeball licking, gouging, and fucking. Amputation. Shuichi thinking about cutting Kokichi's throat open and basically making out with it. A scene where Shuichi imagines murdering his own anxiety by stabbing it. Stuff like that and more little mentions. 
> 
> Stay safe fam.


End file.
